


move, keep moving (and never stop)

by wolfsupremacist



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Heist, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 13:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsupremacist/pseuds/wolfsupremacist
Summary: “Casino,” Jongin says softly. “State of the art shit. They say it’s fucking impenetrable.”“I’ll fucking penetrate it,” Baekhyun smiles coyly.





	move, keep moving (and never stop)

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. They’ll never pull it off. 

“Not with that attitude,” Jongin smiles charmingly, crouching by the boxes next to Sehun who crouches next to Baekhyun. 

“Hurry the _fuck up_ ,” Chanyeol says, and he peeks into the room before turning back to lookout. “Hurry it up, hurry it the fuck _up_.” 

“Can you do it?” Jongin whispers. “Can you?” 

“Eh,” Baekhyun says, and he presses his hand-crank drill against the little lock box. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”  
  


◇

  
  
Kim Jongin has had many pasts. Many different names, and in many different places. He’s clever that way. Good at fooling people with just a simple smile.

Jongin told him that he started stealing when he was a kid. First thing he stole? Ferrero Rocher. 

“Candy?” Sehun comments. “That’s so pure.” 

“Isn’t it?” Jongin says. He turns in bed, the white sheets light over his skin. Sehun moves them, reveals more of his body. The muscles that ripple as he shifts. “We were poor, and a box of them was so expensive, and I wanted to get my mom something special for her birthday. So I grabbed a fistful, shoved ‘em down my pants.” 

“Was it that easy?” Sehun asks. 

“I almost got caught,” Jongin says, and he leans forward, leans into Sehun’s space. 

“What did you do?” Sehun asks quietly. 

Jongin licks along Sehun’s neck, pulls a moan from him. Sucks a kiss to make a mark among the rest on his throat. 

“A lady at the store stopped me,” Jongin says, continuing to kiss Sehun’s skin. “I smiled at her and complimented her shoes. And she let me go.” 

“You think she knew?” Sehun gasps. 

“No,” Jongin says. “People get distracted.” 

As if by command, Sehun feels himself get distracted by Jongin’s mouth. How many have fallen prey to this the same way he has? How many have been in his same position, metaphorical or literal? 

Sehun almost doesn’t know if Jongin is his real name. 

“Oh, hush now,” Jongin says, and he presses a kiss to Sehun’s lips. “I’d never lie to you.” 

“You lie to everyone else,” Sehun whispers. 

“Occupational hazard when you do what we do,” Jongin says. “Right?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “You’re right.” 

Jongin flips Sehun onto his back, starts to kiss down his body. He is good with his mouth. Of course he is. If he wasn’t good with his mouth, Sehun wouldn’t be here. None of them would be. Jongin got them together. Jongin taught them. Jongin taught _him_. Everything he knows. 

“You’re capable,” Jongin says. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

Jongin is the one who doesn’t give himself enough credit, though. But there isn’t enough credit in the whole fucking universe for Kim Jongin. Even if he’s not who he says he is.  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun was twenty, studying abroad in France.

Most of his life, he was being dragged down. This, he thought, this would be his chance. To escape. To do something different. He wasn’t used to being on his own. It was exhilarating, the freedom. 

Ever since he was young, he stole every chance he got. Nicked little things. Nicked big things, if he could get away with it. He wasn’t in the game of probability, though. If there was ever a chance of failure, Sehun was able to get control of himself. He could stop. He was always so, so careful. Except for the one time he wasn’t. 

A hand closed around his wrist as he reached into the back of the jewelry case. 

Sehun turned, mouth dropped open in shock and apology, before he saw probably the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. He looked like money. Filthy rich and hotter than Hell itself. 

“Well now,” he said. “What do we have here?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” Sehun stuttered. “I was just looking.” 

“You look with your eyes. Everyone knows that,” the man smiled. “No, you weren’t looking. You were trying to steal.” 

“No,” Sehun denied. “No, I wasn’t.” 

The man looked around, stared at the empty room of the jewel house. 

“It was smart,” the man commented. “Tripping the alarm in the main room to get them to vacate the room with the less valuable items. It only gives you a narrow timeframe to work, but if you know what you’re looking for, then that doesn’t matter, I suppose.” 

“I didn—” 

“You did,” the man said. “I watched you. And the security tapes were watching too.” 

Sehun’s eyes went wide, he could _feel_ them go wide, until the man reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a tape. Sehun leaped forward to grab it, but the man was too fast. Withdrew just as quick. Sehun’s hand landed on the man’s chest, and the man held it there. 

“Come with me,” the man said. “And don’t make a scene. You don’t want them to catch you, do you?”  
  


◇

  
  
The cafe they went to had been richer than what Sehun was used to. Most of his thefts went towards paying his tuition, paying off his parents’ debts. He was frugal most everywhere else, so when he looked over the menu, he hesitated.

“Order whatever you want,” Jongin said. “It’s on me.” 

The necklace in his pocket weighed a thousand pounds, and it felt like it was dragging him down into the core of the Earth, but Sehun obeyed, ordered the espresso special and then sat with his hands folded. 

“Add the Baileys to his,” Jongin said, his French mangled but serviceable. “And a bottle of the Dom Pérignon Rosé.” 

Sehun sat with his head bowed until the girl left, and then, once she had gone, he felt a gentle kick under the table. 

“What do you look so sad for?” Jongin asked. 

“I—I don’t know,” Sehun said, and he squirmed in his seat. 

“Do you think I mean to harm you?” Jongin asked. “Turn you over to police for a reward?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun said. 

“You look like you don’t trust me,” Jongin said, smiling, sitting back in the booth. 

He truly was beautiful, handsome beyond compare, and _chic_ too. His hair was brushed back, soft golden brown. His lips were full, rose-red and shiny. His skin was clear. Dewy. His clothes...designer. Effortless, like the brands meant nothing to him. 

“I don’t,” Sehun said. 

“You’re smart,” Jongin said. 

He reached into his pocket, took the tape. Slid it across the old wood tabletop. 

“You can go,” Jongin said, “if you really want. You can take the tape, go back to school, finish up your degree. Keep stealing the little shit. But if you’re interested, I ha—” 

Sehun took the tape. Ran as fast as he fucking could. 

It was only once he got back to his apartment that he realized a slip of paper in his wallet that hadn’t been there before. 

_just in case you get curious_ , Jongin had written. And a number below that.  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun forgot about it, determined to keep his head down.

Sehun _tried_ to forget about it, anxious about what contacting such a strange, no doubt _dangerous_ person could mean. 

Sehun didn’t forget about it. Couldn’t forget about it. Couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, he had walked away from something special. 

He sat at a cafe near Barbès – Rochechouart, and he dialed the number. He had it memorized, of course, because he stared at it so frequently, the paper wilted after he ran his fingers over it and folded it up so many times. 

“I wondered when you would call,” Jongin said. 

“If I said I was interested,” Sehun said, “what would you say?” 

“I would say that you should tell me where you are right now,” Jongin said. “Because I’ll come pick you up.”  
  


◇

  
  
Jongin stopped his car outfront of the little cafe, and he got out of the car wearing Tom Ford sunglasses that he lowered onto his nose in distaste.

“What are you doing _here_?” Jongin asked. “Shady. Only thieves hang around here.”

“Perfect place for us then,” Sehun said. Jongin smiled. “I live nearby.” 

“Not anymore, you don’t,” Jongin said. “Come on, get your stuff. I’ll show you your new place.”  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun gathered enough of his things for a couple days, unsure of when he’d be back. Little did he know, Jongin meant what he said. It was his.

The apartment was in Trocadéro. It was stunning. Modern and white, with splashes of magenta, orange, and yellow. 

“You can stay here as long as you like,” Jongin said as he opened the door and showed Sehun around. “Living room. Dining room and kitchen through here. And your bedroom is back this way.” 

He led Sehun through the halls, and Sehun peeked through, saw at least three other bedrooms, all unused, all perfectly made. But Jongin kept him moving, led him through to the master bedroom. 

“I’ve stayed here a couple times,” Jongin said. “The bed is nice.” 

Sehun wandered into the room, staring at his surroundings as he circled. The room was luxurious in a way that he’d never experienced before, practically draped in 24 karat gold. 

“What is this?” Sehun asked. “Are you trying to...is this a scam?” 

Jongin laughed, sat himself on the bed and crossed his leg. 

“Do you think it’s a scam?” he asked. 

“I don’t know what it is,” Sehun said. 

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Jongin said. “I think you have talent. And I’d like to train you.” 

“Train me?” Sehun asked. 

“You’re a thief,” Jongin said. “A pretty good one. But I could make you a _great_ one.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Because I’m a great one,” he said. “Would you like to see your view?” 

Sehun nodded, and Jongin pushed up off the bed, smirked as he directed Sehun to the balcony. 

Sehun pushed open the door, stepped through into the cool spring air. He shut his eyes as he braced himself on the railing. Nervous. Excited. 

Jongin’s hands covered his, an embrace of sorts as they stared out over Paris. 

“I’m going to make you a legend,” Jongin whispered, and the words crept up over Sehun’s skin, made him shiver.  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun would not file for a leave of absence from school in the middle of the semester, so his studies doubled. Jongin taught him, and sooner rather than later, he was taking wallets on the streets like it was nothing. On good days, he could grab ten. Especially in a shopping district. He had quick hands, _good hands_ Jongin had praised, and Sehun felt himself flourish under the attention.

That was before Jongin introduced him to larger scale cons. After Sehun bought a new wardrobe, Jongin started to bring him to meetings, and Sehun was in awe of the way he spoke to people, the way he got people to let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever he needed. 

“It’s mostly about being charming,” Jongin said. “And you’ve got charm to spare, don’t you?” 

“No,” Sehun said. 

“Sure you do,” Jongin said. “You charmed me.” 

“I don’t know how I did that,” Sehun said. 

Jongin leaned in with a smile. 

“Me neither,” Jongin said. “But I’m glad you did.”  
  


◇

  
  
When the semester ended, Sehun took stock of his life. He was supposed to return for the summer, but he’d somehow...gotten stuck in France. Detained. He’d spent most of his days in the richest parts of the city, tailing Jongin around, watching him plan all sorts of capers. He heard the stories of Jongin’s adventures, found himself enthralled by the money. He got used to the wealth, but Sehun always returned to his lush apartment on his own, simply dropped off by Jongin. And he wondered: _just what exactly was he doing?_

He packed one afternoon, inelegantly shoving all of his new designer clothes into his new designer luggage as tears rolled down his face. 

“Hey,” Jongin called from the foyer, voice echoing. “You home?” 

Sehun bit his lip. 

Jongin came into the bedroom, found him knelt on the floor over all his things. 

“What’s going on?” Jongin asked. “Have you been hurt?”

“No,” Sehun said, and he brushed the tears away from his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m leaving.” 

“Where are you going?” Jongin asked. 

“Home,” Sehun said. “School’s over.” 

“So?” Jongin asked. 

“So, that’s it,” Sehun said. “I have summer break, and then next year, I’m back to studying again.” 

“Stay,” Jongin said. “You’re being silly.” 

“I’m not,” Sehun said. “I’m wasting my fucking time doing this shit.” 

“You think so?” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sehun said quietly. “I don’t know why I’m here. Why I’m—” 

“Shh,” Jongin said, and he knelt down beside Sehun, held Sehun’s shoulders in his hands. “Don’t cry.” 

“I’m not,” Sehun said. “I just...should I stay here? Should I go? I don’t know what to do. I feel lost.” 

“Don’t feel lost. You’re right where you’re supposed to be,” Jongin said. “And I’ll show you.” 

“How?” Sehun wondered. 

“I’m going to take you on a job,” Jongin said. “So let’s go get you a new suit, okay? I already asked my tailor if he could fit in a rush order.”  
  


◇

  
  
It was a black tie affair, and Jongin dolled him up.

“This is as good a time as any to give you your final lesson,” Jongin said, working product through Sehun’s hair as he pushed it back out of Sehun’s face. 

“Final lesson?” Sehun asked. “What’s that?” 

“That your looks are an asset,” Jongin said, and he held Sehun’s face in his hands. “And you shouldn’t be afraid to use them.” 

“O-okay,” Sehun said. Jongin never touched him before, only casual glances of their hands. But in that moment, Sehun thought that maybe he wanted Jongin to touch him. Maybe he wanted Jongin to fall for him the way Jongin wanted _others_ to fall for him. 

“You’re going to be my distraction,” Jongin said. “Will you do that for me?” 

_Anything_ , Sehun thought, but he immediately chastised himself. Not _anything_. Don’t be _fooled_.

The car dropped them off outside the museum, and as it rolled to a stop, Jongin pulled him close, gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

“For good luck,” he said with a wink, and then he got out of the car, leaving Sehun in his wake. 

Sehun pinched himself on the thigh, and then, he followed. 

Inside the museum, there was a scroll. It was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. And Jongin was to take it. The guards were lax that night. It was an event for the rich, after all. What Jongin needed was very simple. There was a third party buyer set up in the eventuality that he was able to pull it off, and Jongin was determined. He always was. 

Sehun walked through the halls, staring at the art with a flute of Veuve Clicquot in his hand. He kept his breath even, straightened his back. His looks were an asset. He could do this on his own. He didn’t need Jongin right next to him. 

He moved, kept moving. He kept to his own for a better part of the night, and when he saw the clock tick, tick, tick to 10:23, he moved again. 

The room with the scrolls was near full. _Good_ , Sehun reminded himself. Jongin said a full room was good for this sort of thing. 

Sehun closed in, walked around the exhibit, saw Jongin nearby. A guard was positioned by the entryway. Sehun sipped the rest of his drink in one go. Moved. 

“Excuse me?” he said quietly, the din of the room swallowing him up. “Would you happen to know where I could put this?” 

“What did you say?” the guard asked, tilting his head to the side. Sehun’s French was much better than Jongin’s, but it was still accented. 

He tilted the glass from side to side. 

“Who do I give this to?” he asked, smiling. 

“Oh,” the guard said, looking around as if to find one. “Um, a server should be around shortly.” 

“Okay,” Sehun said. “Do you mind if I wait here?” 

“No,” the guard said. “No, you can do as you like, sir.” 

“Okay,” Sehun said. “Sorry, I know that my French isn’t very good.” 

“Oh, no,” the man said. “It’s quite good for a foreigner.” 

Sehun smiled at him, and then looked down. 

“Oh,” Sehun said. “Could you—”

The man looked at him quizzically. Sehun looked at the clock. Time.

“I’m sorry,” Sehun said shyly. “It’s a silly question.” 

“It’s okay,” the guard said. “I’m here for questions.” 

“Would you…” 

And Sehun stepped closer, arm brushing against the guard’s. 

“Oh,” the man said. “I’m not...I don’t—” 

“Oh,” Sehun said, faux-embarrassed, raising his hand to his face and spinning in front of him. He’s big, he’s got broad shoulders. It’s a good block. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed. I think I’m drunk. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” the guard said, stepping to the side. “Oh, there’s a server.” 

He reached into the air, waved the server over. Sehun put his glass on the tray, smiling. 

“Sorry for bothering you,” Sehun said. “And thank you for your help.”  
  


◇

  
  
The start of the lockdown was expected. There weren’t alarms set for specific items, of course. Just alarms on the cases themselves.

The clamor was electric, and the adrenaline coursed through him. Would they be able to get out with it? He rushed through the halls, past all the party goers humming with the rumors of _thieves_. If they got a good look at Jongin’s face before they were able to slip out, it would be over. 

Sehun moved, moved to the back of the halls. Jongin would be waiting by the bathrooms, would have already grabbed the tape and cracked the door open. 

He nearly ran to the hallway, saw Jongin standing there. Breathless. Glowing. 

“Hey,” Jongin said, happy. “Ace work.” 

“Could have done without the alarm,” Sehun said. 

“Eh, it’s more fun this way,” Jongin said. 

“Did you get the tape?” Sehun asked. 

“It’s like you don’t know me,” Jongin said, patting the breast pocket of his suit. “Now, le—” 

“Hey!” 

They froze, ducked into the corner of the building by the bathrooms. But the footsteps followed them. Followed. Followed. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Jongin whispered, shielding Sehun with his body. 

Sehun had to think quick. Had to use all the smarts Jongin had given him. 

“Kiss me,” Sehun said. 

“What?” Jongin asked. 

But Sehun didn’t order again, just tugged Jongin in by the lapels, and kissed him like he’d been dreaming of doing. Jongin’s lips were soft. And he moaned softly into Sehun’s mouth, his leg fitting naturally between Sehun’s. Sehun moved into it, pressing their hips together. He wrapped his arms around Jongin. He meant it as a distraction, but oh, this was _more_ than a distraction. This was...this was something else entirely. 

“Hey, what are you—” 

Sehun popped his head up, did his best to look shocked. Apologetic. He held Jongin’s face to his neck, shielded him in return. 

The guard. Sehun’s guard. 

“Oh,” the guard said, flustered. “S-sorry to interrupt...” 

“It’s okay,” Sehun said. “Have a good night.” 

Before the guard thought better of it, they were out the back door of the museum, the door alarm disabled by Jongin’s knowledge of the system. 

“That was fucking _smart_ ,” Jongin said as they ran. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?” 

“Would you be mad if I told you I stole it from _Clue_?” Sehun said. 

Jongin’s laughter bolstered him, carried him home.  
  


◇

  
  
News of the theft streaked across the papers in Paris the next morning, but Sehun was too busy to read them, not with Jongin stretched across him. Spread all over him. Inside him.

“Perfect,” he said, kissing Sehun’s stomach. 

“S-stop,” Sehun said. “I can’t anymore.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” Jongin asked. 

Jongin was insatiable, they _both_ were, in truth. And it was sexier than it had the right to be. He smirked as he kept mouthing at Sehun’s abdomen, lowering until his mouth was hovering above Sehun’s cock. 

“I won’t,” Sehun said. 

“Don’t you want to?” Jongin asked.

Sehun wanted. Wanted. Wanted. 

“I want to,” Sehun said. 

“You did so well,” Jongin said, and he kissed the head of Sehun’s cock, tongued at it messily. “My protégé.” 

Sehun thrusted up into the hot, wet heat when Jongin finally closed his lips around Sehun’s dick. Memories of the night before played wildly in his head: their bodies together, twisting and moving. How many times had he come? How many times had Jongin? He wasn’t sure. He just knew he wanted more. Always, always wanted more.  
  


◇

  
  
The very next day, Sehun filed for a leave of absence for next semester. After all he’d learned, he was ready for something new.

He and Jongin spent the summer in France, occasionally travelling across Europe. Occasionally taking work where Jongin found it. They could more than live on their petty theft. They could live _large_ on their petty theft. But Jongin always wanted more. And soon, so did Sehun. 

They slept in the same bed, drank from the same glass. Breathed each other. Over and over. In and in and in.  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun found himself quite good at spending money over the next several months. His debts were all gone. He was financially stable. He could do whatever he wanted with his new talents. But what he _wanted_ was to stick by Jongin’s side. Sometimes, Jongin had to work. Sometimes, he went along. But more often than not, they played.

They went sunbathing in Saint-Tropez. The breeze was warm and salted. Everything smelled of the sea, the soft and careless waters. They drank on the beaches, straight from the bottle. The vintages too rich for Sehun, but he drank them all the same. Sehun reached over, touching the sun-warm skin of Jongin’s back. Jongin smiled, reached over. Touched Sehun’s lips carefully. He always touched Sehun carefully. 

They gambled in Monaco, and Sehun always blew on the dice before Jongin threw them. They ate the Michelin-starred _Elsa_ , feasted on lobster tortelli and salt-roasted rouget barbet, on praline-almond souffle and tiramisu and St. Honoré cake. They ordered room service, pizza and fries in the evenings, fried eggs in the morning. Jongin fed him seasonal fruit by hand, raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries. Sehun fucked him in the shower, the rains pouring down over them. They won, they lost, and they always had their arms around the other. 

They sailed off Santorini, drank their weight in Vidiano, kissed each other drunkenly under the stars. Jongin was an adept sailor, Sehun found, and even inebriated, he was capable. On the floor of the boat, they made love to each other. In the morning, they sailed home. 

But home was everywhere to them. They were _always_ home when they were with each other.  
  


◇

  
  
The bath back in the Trocadéro apartment was massive, and they got good use out of it. Rose petals rehydrated in the water, tinted it pink. Sehun hooked his chin over Jongin’s shoulder.

“Why did you pick me?” Sehun asked. 

“Hm?” Jongin said, eyes shut. 

“You could have picked anybody,” Sehun said, and his hands trailed over Jongin’s wet skin, up his arms, along his biceps. “There’s thousands of thieves around here. Pickpockets and shit. Why’d you pick me?”

Jongin opened his eyes, looked at Sehun curiously before he rearranged them both in the bath until they were facing each other, legs tangled across, feet laid in each other’s laps. 

“You’re smart,” Jongin said, and he rubbed a thumb into the arch of Sehun’s foot. “You thought about what you were doing before you did it. Tried to make sure that all possible outcomes resulted in your success.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun said. 

“No, you wanted to hear it, so now you have to hear it,” Jongin smiled. “And there was something else about you...something I didn’t see in everyone. You were interested i-in something else. In something different.” 

“How could you tell?” Sehun asked. 

“I could just see it,” Jongin said, massaging Sehun’s foot carefully before looking up at him, “in your eyes. But I couldn’t force you into this life. I just...gave you the option of it. See if you wanted to find out. And you did.” 

“I did,” Sehun said, wiggling his toes. 

“I’m glad,” Jongin said. “Because you were so beautiful. And if I didn’t get to have you, then I don’t know what I would have done.” 

Sehun hummed, let his head fall back against the porcelain edge of the bath. 

“We should go somewhere,” Jongin said.

Sehun raised his head. 

He washed over Sehun’s feet once more, and it felt more intimate than anything they’d ever done before. Was he falling in love with Jongin? He didn’t know. But what wasn’t there to love about him? 

“Oh yeah?” Sehun asked. “Where do you wanna go?” 

“I have a job in Seoul,” Jongin said.

“South Korea?” Sehun asked. 

“Do you know a different Seoul?” Jongin smiled. “Will you come with me?” 

He leaned down in the bath to kiss at Sehun’s freshly cleaned toes, looking up. Smiling. 

“Yeah,” Sehun said, not inclined to deny Jongin much of anything. “I’ll come.”  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun turned onto his stomach, laid his head on his folded arms.

“Don’t,” Jongin said. “You look so sexy like that.” 

Sehun rolled his eyes, but he accepted the kiss when Jongin surged forward. 

“Do you want me to work?” Sehun asked. “In Seoul?” 

“If you wanna work,” Jongin said. 

“Do you _want_ me to?” Sehun asked. 

“You know I love it when we work together, baby,” Jongin said. “You look so hot when you do your thing.” 

His hand came to rest on Sehun’s ass, patting gently through the sheets. 

“You too,” Sehun said, and he titled his hips up into the touch. 

Jongin rolled him over by the shoulder, kissed him fiercely. Sehun smiled into it, bit Jongin’s lip between his teeth and pulled him close, closer.  
  


◇

  
  
The planning period lasts longer than Sehun expects.

“It’s a big job,” Jongin says, shoving his shirt into his pants and zipping his pants. “The biggest job we’ve ever done by far. It’s the biggest job I’ve ever done by far. Fuck, probably the biggest job _anyone’s_ ever done.” 

Sehun tries not to let that scare him. Jongin’s done a lot. Seen a lot. Far more than Sehun, of course. Sehun waits in Paris as Jongin does his most rudimentary planning. Jongin flies to and from Seoul, and Sehun waits. 

They learn all they can in those months, Sehun’s information filtered through the lens of Jongin’s camera. The target is a vault of security boxes below a casino in Gangnam. The casino in Seoul is one of five, but it is far larger and wealthier than the rest. Jongin shows him pictures taken with the pencam. It reminds Sehun of their time in Monaco, at the Monte Carlo. The casino screams luxury from the top of its lungs, and the shouts echo along the busy city streets. 

“It’s insane,” Jongin says, and he swipes through his tablet, showing Sehun the layout. It’s scarlet and gold, overflowing with opulence, and gold-plated statues of felines line the halls, towering over the guests. “You should see it. Maybe we’ll gamble a little before the job.” 

“Isn’t the job enough gambling for one evening?” Sehun asks, and Jongin rewards him with a kiss. 

“Shut up,” Jongin smiles.

The one who hires Jongin is named Myunghee, and they don’t hear from them often. They don’t even know if it’s a woman or a man. All Sehun knows is what Jongin knows and that is that the contract would make it so that they never had to work another day in their whole fucking lives. Sehun is hesitant. He’s…he’s petty theft. He’s low-stakes. This is something he has little experience with. This is the big time. This is the fuckin’ _show_. 

“You’re valuable,” Jongin tells him, patting him on the cheek as if to remind him. “If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have picked you.” 

“I’m sure there are plenty of thieves who could do this better than me,” Sehun says. 

“But none so pretty,” Jongin says. “And that’s part of your value.” 

“And what about you?” Sehun asks, petulant. “What’s _your_ value, huh?” 

“I’m valuable because I’m good at finding people to do certain jobs,” Jongin tells Sehun, “and because I have access to the vault.” 

“You do?” Sehun asks. 

“But of course,” Jongin smiles, and God, Sehun is already more than a little in love with him. Why speed up the process? “I’m a jeweler, after all.” 

“You are?” 

Jongin kisses him chastely, a dot on the center of his lips. 

“You’re cute,” Jongin says. “And I want you to meet some people.” 

“They’re here?” Sehun asks. “I thought we were meeting them once we got to Seoul.” 

Jongin kisses him hard this time. So much tongue. 

“You won’t be going to Seoul for a bit. So I flew ‘em out,” Jongin says. “Just to see you.”  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun is the youngest. He is the least experienced. He holds his hands in his lap.

“Don’t be nervous,” Jongin says. “They’re here because they’re excited to see who’s been stealing all my attention for the past year and a half.”

Jongin leans across the table. Kisses Sehun softly. Quiets his nerves, or at the very least, absorbs their vibrations. 

Eventually, four men join them at the sleepy Sunday morning cafe. And the four men sit down quietly. 

Park Chanyeol is strong. And he’s something of a Swiss army knife, Jongin tells him. 

“Electrician, mechanic,” Chanyeol says with a shrug. “I do a little bit of everything.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Sehun says, and Chanyeol shakes his hand. 

“This is Jongdae,” Jongin says, pointing. 

“Hey,” Jongdae says, and he takes the cigarette out of his mouth, stubs it down before shaking Sehun’s hand. “I’m driving. Used to be a stunt driver.”

“Oh wow,” Sehun says. “That’s awesome.” 

“I’m Baekhyun,” another says, reaching over the table to shake Sehun’s hand. “I do lock-picking. And key forging.” 

“Oh, no shit,” Sehun says. “That’s super cool.” 

“You think so?” Baekhyun asks, and he smiles charmingly before turning to Jongin. “Man, you were right. This one’s cute.” 

Sehun looks down, stares at his espresso and tries not to flush too much at the implication. Do they know...do they know that Jongin’s taken him under his wing and into his bed? Surely, they must know. But does it matter to them? 

“And this,” Jongin says, pointing again, “is Kyungsoo.” 

“I make sure Jongin knows what he’s getting into,” Kyungsoo says, and there is a look of familiarity between them, much stronger than the admittedly strong bond between Jongin and any of the rest. 

Sehun’s no fool. He knows a past when he sees one. It practically spills out over the little table between them. He bites down on jealousy. 

“So let’s discuss a bit, hm?” Jongin says, looking around for a second. 

“I’ve done some background work,” Kyungsoo says, and he pulls out his phone, starts typing. “But tell me everything you got so far.” 

Jongin smiles, and Sehun reaches under the table, holds him by the thigh. 

“Casino,” Jongin says softly. “State of the art shit. They say it’s fucking impenetrable.” 

“I’ll fucking penetrate it,” Baekhyun smiles coyly. 

“Kim Minseok owns it,” Jongin says, scrolling through his notes. 

“Oh shit,” Baekhyun says, and he leans back in his chair. “He’s bad news. I think I heard he’s Yakuza.” 

“He’s Japanese?” Jongdae asks. “I thought he was Chinese.” 

“He’s _Korean_ ,” Jongin corrects. “And no one knows how he got his money.” 

“Spooky,” Chanyeol smiles. “He’s not chaebol?” 

“Nah,” Jongin says, and he grabs a folder, puts it on the table. Chanyeol reaches for it, starts leafing through. “Came to Seoul when he was 19. Had enormous wealth, but it was all in cash.” 

“ _Weird_ ,” Jongdae says. “I kinda like this guy.” 

“He’s—,” Jongin says, looking for the right word. 

“He’s crazy,” Kyungsoo says shortly. “So it’s crazy for us to do this.” 

“Well,” Baekhyun says, picking up his cup of coffee and pulling at it until it’s gone. “I’m crazy. I’m in.” 

“You know I’m in,” Chanyeol says. 

“You got a car?” Jongdae asks. 

“Hyundai Genesis R-Spec, no paper trail,” Jongin says. “Zero to sixty in five. Eight speed transmission. Gas direct injection, five point oh V8. 429 horsepower. Meanwhile, it looks like a fuckin’ Hyundai.” 

“Ooh, shit,” Jongdae says excitedly. “Giddy up, boys. I’m in.” 

They look to Kyungsoo, busy writing in his phone. He looks up, looks around. 

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t in,” he says. “So continue with the meeting, I suppose.” 

They grin. 

“Let’s move,” Jongin says. “Somewhere a little less...public.”  
  


◇

  
  
They smoke outside the Trocadéro apartment, but Sehun only holds his lit cigarette in his hand. The rest of them, they catch up. They’ve known each other for years, it seems. They speak Korean exclusively. Sehun’s lucky he learned.

Did he meet them while traveling? Did they grow up together? Or was it something else? Sehun keeps all his questions quiet, just taps the cigarette. Watches the ashes fall. 

“Tell us about what we’re up against,” Kyungsoo says, breathing the last of his smoke up into the air. “I know you’ve taken a look at the layout, but how?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “How?” 

“I went to Seorae. Little French bit of Banpo-dong,” Jongin says simply, turning to speak to Sehun directy. “I have connections, obviously. A French jeweler. That’s why I was in France when I met _you_ , baby. Everyone thinks _I’m_ a jeweler. So my guy has things locked up in that vault.” 

“Right,” Sehun says. “And—” 

“And you need someone to vouch for you,” Jongin says, and he throws his cigarette to the ground. Stamps it out. “So he vouched. And now…” 

“Now you have a security box,” Sehun says. “Fucking brilliant.” 

Jongin grins, pleased, and he steals a kiss from Sehun even though he knows he doesn’t have to _steal_ it. Sehun would give him a thousand and one for free. 

“This is disgusting,” Baekhyun says. “Thieves in love.” 

“They’ll make a movie about it if we can pull it off,” Jongin says. 

“So,” Kyungsoo says, “let’s get inside. Show me the layers.” 

They go in, and Jongin grabs his tablet.

“Security is beastly,” Jongin says. “But they mostly roam the casino floors. Only a few guys down in the lower levels of the building.” 

“Right,” Kyungsoo says, note-taking. “Cameras?” 

“Four hallways,” Jongin says. “Two are heavily patrolled, and cameras are everywhere. They lead to the hallway that leads to the antechamber. Tons of cameras. The other hallway is a service hallway. No cameras. Heat sensor, though.” 

“Bingo,” Kyungsoo says. “How do we get there?” 

“Service elevator. Waiters and hostesses use it. The main offices of the casino are all below ground, but so are the quarters for the workers,” Jongin says, and he shows a picture. “Access from all six show floors. But you need a key.” 

“Your boy’s got it,” Baekhyun says. “You get a picture?” 

“Did you one better,” Jongin says, and he pulls out his phone, taps and swipes for a moment before passing it to Baekhyun. A video. 

“Oh, you’re an angel wearing Prada,” Baekhyun says. “How did you get this?” 

“Went to the vault every couple weeks,” Jongin says. “The guards got used to seeing me. They kinda looked the other way whenever I went.” 

“Easy peasy,” Baekhyun says. 

“If we’re able to get through the service hallway,” Kyungsoo wonders, “are we able to get to the alarm unit and disable the cameras?” 

“I think so,” Jongin says. “So it would work like this: someone comes down the service elevator, someone able to disable the first alarm and cameras.”

“Me,” Kyungsoo says. 

“You,” Jongin says. “Distraction draws the guards from the two hallways out. Everyone else files in, moves through the lead hallway.”

“Distraction,” Kyungsoo says, and he looks Sehun up and down. 

“O-oh,” Sehun says. “Me?” 

“You,” Jongin smiles. 

“Oh shit,” Sehun says. “Okay.”

“We’re gonna have to move as quickly as we can,” Jongin says. “But there’s no room for error. So we’ll need at least ten minutes, but as long as everyone makes it in and out before they get back into their hallways, we’ll be okay.” 

“Fuck,” Sehun says. “Okay. We’ll figure something out.” 

“So assuming all goes to plan,” Kyungsoo says. “Distraction works, he pulls everyone out, alarms disabled, everyone gets to the antechamber. What next?” 

“The door,” Jongin says. “Combination dial, keyed lock, seismic sensor built in, a locked steel grate, and a magnetic sensor.” 

“Shit,” Kyungsoo says. “Okay...I’ll have to think it over. Say we get past the seismic sensor and the dial and the magnetic sensor.” 

“We need that key,” Jongin says. 

“You’re so lucky you have me,” Baekhyun exclaims. 

“Then,” Jongin says. “Light sensor.” 

“Fuck,” Chanyeol says. “We’ll be working in the dark, then.” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says. “So as soon as he puts that key in, we’ve gotta have the lights out.” 

“And then theoretically...” Jongdae says. 

“Then, theoretically,” Jongin says. “We’re in. Baekhyun picks the lock on the grate.” 

“After that?” Kyungsoo says. “The heat and motion sensors…” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says, and he shows them a picture of the ceiling, of the camera that watches over it all. “Hairspray will hold the heat until…” 

“Until I’m able to disable that internal camera,” Chanyeol says. “Right?” 

“Right,” Jongin says. “It’s gonna be…” 

“It’s gonna be fucking easy,” Chanyeol says, folding his arms across his chest. “No problem whatsoever. I’ll work fast. There’s a panel up there. Push back the panel, get to the wiring. I’ll take it from there.” 

“From there—” Kyungsoo starts. 

“From there, I get my drill,” Baekhyun says. “And we bleed that bitch dry.”  
  


◇

  
  
The planning...it takes _much_ longer than Sehun expects. And it is so much more in-depth than Sehun ever believed it would be.

Jongdae drives them out one stupidly early morning to the countryside, out past Avignon, to the town of L’Isle sur la Sorgue. It is a leap to the past, the beautiful provincial past. And then they move past it. 

They are near Lagnes, Sehun notes, and Kyungsoo leads them once they’ve parked. They walk a half mile to a shack. And inside the shack is...a frankly phenomenal recreation of the pictures they’ve seen of the chamber. 

“This is insane,” Jongin says, marveling before it. “This is amazing.” 

“We’ll run through it about a thousand times,” Kyungsoo says, gesturing to the large replica vault in front of them. “If we make even a fraction of an error, even the _slightest misstep_...”

“Then we’ll be cat food,” Jongin laughs, and he runs his hands along the metal of the fake door before turning back to the rest of the boys. “Okay. Let’s get to it.”  
  


◇

  
  
Jongin prepares for them. He buys the disposable plastic gloves. He buys the duffel bags. He buys Jongdae’s police scanner. He buys the cheap prepaid cell phones. He dishes them out as he sits in the grass, Raybans on his face, a light, button-down linen shirt open along his chest, looking altogether more beautiful than any person should be allowed.

“Should be no problem,” he says casually. “We’ve pretty much thought of everything.” 

_Pretty much?_ , Sehun thinks. _Let’s hope we think of everything._  
  


◇

  
  
They always bring coffee with them, and soon, the whole place reeks of cigarettes and noisette. The smell seeps into the wood of the little cottage, but Sehun is used to it now. He’s slept with Jongin on the floor of the shack on nights when they are too tired to drive back home.

“Bang, bang, bang, nine, ten, _eleven_ ,” Chanyeol says, dramatically stepping forward. “I reach up. Push back the ceiling. Feel for the wires. If any of the wires get tripped, the alarm goes off, and if the alarm goes off, I go to jail.” 

“Think positively,” Baekhyun says. “Oprah says that. It’s _The Secret._ ” 

“Right,” Chanyeol says, body stretching as he reaches into the fake ceiling. “Does Oprah know anything about stripping wires? Because this shit is delicate.” 

“You’re a baby bear, and you possess the softest paws known to man,” Baekhyun says. 

Once he strips the wires, he installs a pre-cut piece of wire between the inbound and outbound wires of the system. The bridge reroutes the incoming pulse of electricity to the outbound wire before the signal gets to the sensor. It’s technical, and most of it goes over his head. Sehun’s seen it a thousand times, though, has _heard_ it a thousand times. He knows how it goes. His part is over. If he fails, they don’t even get to this point. 

He breathes in. Breathes out. 

They’ll do it. They’ll be fine.  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun likes Avignon. He likes the area. Likes the fields. Jongin takes note.

They go on a picnic near a vineyard, and the air is sweet. 

“This is nice,” Sehun says. “You didn’t have to do this.” 

“No,” Jongin says. “I just wanted to.” 

He unpacks the bag, cheese and cured meats and grapes. He opens a bottle of Chateau D'Aqueria from nearby Tavel, a rose-colored wine that smells like strawberries and lavender. 

“Mm,” Sehun says, and he taps his glass against Jongin’s until they chime. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers, baby,” Jongin says, and when Sehun kisses him, it tastes of red currant and blood oranges. 

They eat, they drink, they lay back against the green grass, and they stare at the sky. It is a perfect afternoon, like something you could put in a snowglobe. Sehun shuts his eyes. Lets the sun sink into his skin, warm him through. 

“Do you feel better now?” Jongin asks. 

Sehun levers himself up on an elbow to stare at Jongin. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ve been upset,” Jongin says, still looking at the sky before he looks over to Sehun and smiles. “I thought you might just need to be spoiled a bit.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun smiles, and he smacks Jongin on the arm before falling into his embrace. “I haven’t been upset.” 

Jongin hums, and it rumbles through his chest. Sehun feels it, and he puts his arm across Jongin. Holds him close. 

“You’ve been nervous, then,” Jongin amends. 

“Of course,” Sehun says. “There’s...well, you know the risks.” 

“I do,” Jongin says. “Are you regretting your decision?” 

“I don’t think so,” Sehun says. 

“I don’t need _think_ , baby,” Jongin says calmly. “I need you to know what you want. It’s up to you. Would you rather go back home? Do you wanna go back to school?” 

“Eventually,” Sehun says. “After.” 

“After?” 

“After we’re finished,” Sehun says. 

“So you know what you want?” Jongin asks. 

Sehun pushes up, his hand across Jongin’s pectoral until he’s able to kiss him the way he deserves. 

“I know what I want,” Sehun says. “I’ve always wanted you. I just didn’t know it yet.” 

“That’s what’s so dangerous about you,” Jongin says, and his eyes are so warm, shining amber and gold in the sun above them. “You make everything sound so good. You make me believe every fuckin’ word.”

“You should,” Sehun says. “Because I love you.” 

Jongin breathes in sharply. He wears a look of surprise. 

It’s new. Sehun likes it. 

“Well?” Sehun says. “Do you have anything to say?” 

Sehun laughs as Jongin shoves him onto his back, their bodies like the rolling hills around them. Jongin kisses him, and there’s so much emotion in it that Sehun can barely breathe. Can’t taste anything besides this. 

“I love you,” Jongin says. “And we are going to get so fucking rich together.”  
  


◇

  
  
In the last two months before the heist, they separate for a bit of a vacation. Jongdae goes to Taiwan. Chanyeol goes to Japan. Baekhyun heads to Brazil. Kyungsoo...Sehun isn’t sure where Kyungsoo goes. Jongin and Sehun keep their heads down in Busan. They get a room at the Lotte. It’s expensive, but it’s nice. The people are a bit rough around the edges, like back home on the East Coast. Sehun likes that a lot.

They get street food, and Sehun practices his Korean. 

He feels like a normal person because they do normal things. It feels like a vacation from being himself, from what they do now. They kiss in the hotel room, they touch each other in the shower. For a minute, he almost forgets. But it’s impossible to forget what’s coming. 

“Any ideas?” Jongin asks, body wrapped around Sehun’s. 

“No,” Sehun says. “I think maybe you picked the wrong person.” 

He stares into Sehun’s eyes, and God, he’s in love with Jongin. He’s so, so in love with him. Maybe he always has been. Maybe he’s loved him ever since Jongin caught him, fingers wrapped around his wrist. Maybe Jongin caught him with the intent of never letting go. 

“I picked the exact right person,” Jongin says. 

Sehun shuts his eyes. 

“I did have one idea,” Sehun says. 

“Tell me,” Jongin says. 

“I won’t be doing the work,” Sehun says. “But it’s just a draw, right? I just have to draw them out.” 

“It’s just a draw,” Jongin says. 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “Do you trust me?” 

Jongin smiles warmly. 

“You think I tell everyone I love them? I trust you with my whole fuckin’ heart, baby,” Jongin says.  
  


◇

  
  
In the final month, Jongin and Sehun go to Seoul. They stay outside the city, though, and when they go to the _Lucky Cat_ , they go in separate cars. At different times.

“It’ll be good for you,” Jongin says, patting him on the shoulder. “Just so you can get an idea of what we’re gonna be walking into.” 

“Okay,” Sehun breathes. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Jongin says. “Would I send you into the lion’s den unprepared?”

“No,” Sehun says. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Exactly,” Jongin says. “So go. Have a good afternoon. Call me if you run into any trouble.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says. 

So he goes. 

Pictures do not do the _Lucky Cat_ justice. All along the building are posters advertising idols, actors, special events, even a gaming convention within the week. Sehun stares up at the foreboding building, psyches himself up, and walks inside. 

It’s garish and lurid, but also strangely beautiful. Sehun looks around, smiling. The slots room, giant and thrumming with light and sound, is swarmed with tourists in t-shirts, locals in suits, every walk of life. The carpets are thick and plush underneath his dress shoes, and he pulls at the hair at the back of his neck. He wishes he could have worn a hat. 

He gets a drink, and once he gets his chips, he sits down at a Roulette table. He puts a couple on red, a stack on 21. And it’s easy to waste money that way, but it allows him to keep looking around. Staring at the architecture. The magnificence of his surroundings. 

After about ten rounds, he feels something rubbing against the inside of his leg. When he looks down, he sees a cat as black as night, yellow eyes bright and striking. 

Then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” 

Sehun turns. It’s him. 

“N-no,” Sehun says. “It’s okay.” 

Kim Minseok smiles down at him. He holds a clicker in his hand, and when he clicks it twice, the cat by Sehun’s leg leaves, leaps into Minseok’s arms. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” Minseok says, tilting his head to the side. “I would remember a face as pretty as yours.” 

_Think fast. Think smart._

“T-this is my first time here,” Sehun says. “I’m in town for a convention. The, uh, game convention later this week.”

“Ah,” Minseok says. “Very interesting. You don’t much look like a gamer.”

“No,” Sehun says shyly. “I guess not.” 

“You must be quite popular with the boys,” Minseok says, eyes shimmering. He is just as stunning as his casino, and again, the pictures do not do him justice. 

“I don’t know about all that,” Sehun smiles. 

Minseok looks him over, and as his eyes slide over Sehun’s body, he can _feel_ the danger in it, like someone running the tip of a knife over your skin. Vaguely arousing. But so, so bad. 

“Well, I’m sorry for interrupting,” Minseok says, petting the cat in his arms. “She likes to explore.” 

“No harm done,” Sehun smiles. 

“Sweetheart,” Minseok says, and he reaches into his pocket. He hands Sehun five 10,000 won chips. “Enjoy your afternoon.”  
  


◇

  
  
He calls Jongin on his way home, only just barely able to breathe.

“What happened?” Jongin asks. “Are you okay? Is everything—” 

“I talked to him,” Sehun says. 

“Talked to—you talked to Minseok?” Jongin asks. 

“Yes,” Sehun says. “Holy shit, he’s _terrifying_.” 

“That’s so hot, baby,” Jongin says. “I bet he wanted to fuck you.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun laughs. “I’m lucky I’m not dead.” 

“We’ve been careful,” Jongin says. “He doesn’t know anything.” 

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Sehun says. 

“Let’s hope.”  
  


◇

  
  
On the morning of the heist, Sehun vomits in their hotel bathroom.

“It’s okay,” Jongin says. “It’s just nerves. It’ll be okay. Just let it out.” 

A million and more thoughts run through Sehun’s head. They could get shot. They could get stabbed. They could get arrested. Maybe his mugshot will be spread in all the papers. Maybe his parents will get word of what he’s done. 

“We’re gonna make it,” Jongin says. “We’re already ninety percent done.” 

He hands Sehun a bottle of water from the mini-bar, and Sehun swishes it in his mouth before spitting it into the toilet and flushing it quickly. 

“Just ten percent?” Sehun asks as he stands. 

Jongin takes Sehun’s hands in his. 

“Ten percent.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “Well, let me brush my teeth, because if I’m gonna die, I’m not gonna die without fucking you one last time.” 

Jongin grins, kisses him on the cheek. 

“That’s my baby.”  
  


◇

  
  
Jongin points to Sehun’s bag before they’re to leave. Sehun thought about it for a while. But he’s got food and water available for it. It’ll be fine.

“Why did that just meow?” Jongin asks. 

“Because it’s trying to say hi, daddy?” Sehun smiles apologetically. 

“When you said _pussy_ , I didn’t think you meant a literal cat,” Jongin whispers angrily. 

“It’ll work,” Sehun says. “Think about...think about who we’re dealing with.” 

Jongin wears a look of concern. It’s time for Sehun to do for Jongin what Jongin always does for Sehun. Quiet the nerves, or at the very least, absorb their vibrations. 

“Hey,” Sehun says. “Trust me?” 

Jongin squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Yes,” Jongin says, and Sehun believes him. Trusts him. 

“Love me?” Sehun asks. 

“Until I’m six feet under, baby,” Jongin says. 

“Love you, baby,” Sehun says. “Let’s go get rich, okay?” 

“Yes,” Jongin says, planting a kiss on Sehun’s hand. “Let’s.”  
  


◇

  
  
Sehun doesn’t see any of them. Doesn’t know when they got to the casino or what they’re wearing. That’s not part of the plan. Not until he gets the text.

It’s hard to keep himself relaxed, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. It will all be fine. Jongdae will be parked, a cup of coffee cooling in his hand as he listens to the police radio. Kyungsoo will be dressed appropriately, using Baekhyun’s key to the service elevator. He’ll walk past the heat sensor using Jongin’s homemade polyester shield. He’ll disable the alarm sensors and the cameras from the secondary hallways. And then. 

His pocket buzzes.

He reaches in, grabs it, checks it. 

_go_

He smiles, cashes out, and drains what’s left of his soda as he waits for the line to the elevator to be clear. He goes to the elevator, goes into the empty cabin. He heads for the bottom floor. The rest of them are already waiting when the doors ding open. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Baekhyun grouses quietly. “A cat? That’s your plan?” 

Sehun shrugs. 

“Hey,” Jongin whispers harshly. “Is this gonna work? Are you sure?” 

Sehun kisses him softly. 

“Let me work,” Sehun smiles, dipping in for another quick kiss. “Be right back.” 

Sehun slips out of his shoes, the heels too loud to be clicking through the hallway. He grabs his bag, slips the zipper open. He takes the kitten out, hushes it quiet. He crouches by the end of the hall, peeks around the corner. 

Two guards standing in front of the hallway before the antechamber. It’ll work, he tells himself. It’ll work. It _has_ to work. Otherwise, they don’t get any further than this. 

Sehun puts the ginger cat on the ground. Gently nudges it forward. 

It begins to pad down the hallway, far away from Sehun. He doesn’t blame it. He kept it in a bag all day. 

Sehun closes his eyes and prays to every God he can think of. He makes some gods up. Prays to them too. Their lives hang in the balance, they— 

“Hey,” he hears. “What the fuck is that?” 

“Is that a cat?” the other guard says. 

“Go look.” 

“You go look.” 

Sehun smiles as he hears one of them plodding through the hall, and his teeth nip into his bottom lip.

“Kill it,” the one says. “This is stupid.” 

“I’m not gonna kill it,” the other says. “Are you stupid? Minseok would have our fucking heads rolling in the Han like volleyballs.” 

“So what are we supposed to do with it?” the one says. “We can’t just have a fucking cat roaming around. It’ll set off alarms..” 

“I don’t know,” the other says. 

“I don’t know either.” 

Quiet. Sehun holds his breath. _Please_ , he thinks. _Take it to him._

“Maybe he’d like it,” the first says hesitantly. 

“Yeah, maybe,” the other says. 

“I’ll bring it to him,” the first says. 

“Why should you get to bring it to him?” the second says. “I should get it bring it to him.” 

More beats of silence. Sehun waits. 

“I mean, we’ll come right back.” 

“Yeah,” the first says. “Maybe he’ll give us a token. You heard about that right? Jinho saving that stray? He got five nights free.” 

“Yeah,” the other says. “Shit, maybe we’ll get a promotion.” 

“You know Jin works upstairs now,” the first says longingly. “Her tits…” 

And they file out, their voices going more and more distant. Sehun allows himself one moment to feel congratulatory before he hustles back, shoes and bag in hand, now free. 

Jongin watches him with wide eyes as he rounds back through the corridor. 

He shoots him a thumbs up, and Jongin’s face lights up. He crosses quickly, quietly. Kisses Sehun hard. And then they move once more.  
  


◇

  
  
They stand before the vault door. It is imposing. It is impenetrable.

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo says, and from his bag, he reveals his slab of aluminum. 

“Is this—” Jongin starts. 

“Trust me,” Kyungsoo says. “I got it.” 

Kyungsoo sticks the piece of metal on the two plates that held the magnetic field on the far side of the vault door, and then, he unscrews their bolts. The plates fall loose, bam, but the tape of the aluminum held them together. Then, Kyungsoo moves them out of the way, taped to the wall. 

It’ still active. It just doesn’t monitor the door any longer. 

“Next,” Kyungsoo says quietly. 

Baekhyun steps forward, his key withdrawn from the bag. He slides it in, waiting for Jongin to key in the code to the keypad. Then, Kyungsoo looks to Chanyeol, standing near the wall. 

All at once. Things go dark. 

Baekhyun turns the key, and he spins the handle. The vault door, impenetrable, is penetrated. 

From there, Sehun calls Jongdae. 

“We’re in,” Sehun whispers. “All good.” 

“Good luck.” And the call goes dead. 

By the time Sehun has finished with his call, Baekhyun’s already picked the lock on the grate, and the rest is up to practice. Chanyeol’s practice. 

Sehun holds his breath as Chanyeol walks the eleven steps into the vault, reaching up into the ceiling. It is surgery, and Sehun could shit himself, his heart thumping wildly in his neck as he watches Chanyeol do what he’s done hundreds, no, _thousands_ of times. Strip the wires. Install. Redirect. 

“Good.” 

He moves, goes to keep watch outside. Ever confident, he flicks the lights back on when he leaves. 

No alarms. They’ve done it. 

Sehun’s heart soars as they pour into the room, bags unzipped. Baekhyun unpacks his drill, goes to one of the boxes. 

“Hustle,” Jongin encourages. 

“Let the master work,” he chides, shoving the shaft of the drill into the lock and cranking wildly. The lock snapped. The box sprang open. And his eyes go wide. “Holy mother of God.” 

Sehun moved, Kyungsoo moved, Jongin moved. Diamonds. Rubies. Emeralds. Loose, precious gems. Handfuls of them. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jongin says, and he swipes them into the bag as Baekhyun cracks into the next box. 

Each and every box is full of riches. Each box richer than the last. Riches beyond imagination. Solid gold bars. Jewelry. Rolexes. Cash. Millions in American, Swiss, British, Korean currencies. So many diamonds that Sehun couldn’t quite believe it. They’d hit the jackpot. The motherlode. 

“Let’s not get greedy,” Chanyeol whispers. “We gotta move.” 

“Okay,” Jongin says, eyes alight. “Okay, five more.” 

They stuff the bags full, until they come across one box with just one item. A sapphire necklace. Decent. But not like the rest. 

Sehun turns to Jongin. Silver and sapphire. For his mother. 

“Stole it from you when you weren’t looking,” Jongin says. 

Sehun flies across the room, launches himself into Jongin’s arms, enthralled. Enraptured. So, so in love.

“Okay, lovebirds. Enough,” Baekhyun says. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” 

They worked quickly. They file back out of the vault with no one the wiser. They head back up the service elevator as a group, and they leave out the back of the building through the restaurant. No one ever sees them. Those cameras are dead. 

Jongdae waits for them near the dumpsters. They load the car quietly. Calmly. 

It isn’t until Seoul is behind them, screaming and streaming with light, that Jongdae breaks the silence.

“Yeah?” Jongdae asks, banging his fists against the wheel excitedly. “We did it?” 

No one else dares speak, for fear of it not being true.  
  


◇

  
  
The meeting with Myunghee is scheduled for just one hour after they are finished with the job, and Sehun can’t stop shaking, the adrenaline still coursing through his blood. They are to discuss how to trade the diamonds, the great wealth, and then wire the riches. Then, they will be wired their money in return. Still, something about it rubs Sehun the wrong way.

It shouldn’t feel that way, of course. It’s over. They’ve won. But he won’t let Jongin go alone. 

“Stay,” Jongin says. “I don’t want to bring you.” 

“I’m coming,” Sehun says. “We started this together, right? Let’s finish it together.” 

Jongin rolls his eyes, kisses him softly. 

“Okay,” Jongin says. “Come on. We have to go to Yeouido.”  
  


◇

  
  
When Jongin gives the fake name to the girl at the desk, they are escorted by two large men to an office.

The door is closed behind them, and Sehun gets the distinct feeling as though they’ve just walked to gallows engraved with their names. There is no Myunghee, he realizes. There never was. It was— 

The chair turns, and there, in an awful crisp white suit, black turtleneck underneath, a white gold chain around his neck is Kim Minseok. Smiling with a cat in his arms. Orange. Sehun’s kitten. _Fuck_. 

“Hello, boys,” Minseok says. “Just the two of you today?” 

It is only the second time Sehun has ever seen surprise register on Jongin’s face, and it is just as scary as the first time. 

“Wh—”

“You,” Minseok says happily, pointing a gentle finger in Jongin’s direction. “You _always_ ask questions. You _always_ want to know everything. You _never_ get fooled. And yet, here we are.” 

Jongin looks at the ground. 

“Here we are,” he mumbles.

“Myunghee,” Minseok laughs. “It’s not even a good fake name. Not one of my brighter choices, I’ll admit. I should have spun you a _tale_. You love stories, don’t you, Jongin?” 

“I do,” Jongin says, and he squares his shoulders. “So tell me a story, then.” 

“Sure,” Minseok says, and he kicks one leg over the other underneath his desk. “I hired you.” 

Bomb after bomb. Sehun reels back physically, and he can _feel_ it radiate off Jongin. 

“You hired me,” Jongin asks slowly, “to rob your own casino?” 

“Of course,” Minseok says, and he twirls his pen in his fingers. “I couldn’t have this traced back to me in any way, so I got you. The best thief in Seoul. And then you got the rest of them. Your four guys. Plus, this one...the new one.” 

He looks Sehun over, head to toe. Smiles. 

“But why?” Sehun asks. “Why would you want us to—” 

Minseok smiles, and he reaches beneath the desk. Throws a band of money onto it, and Sehun picks it up. Millions and millions. 

“You—” 

“People are stupid,” Minseok says, and he tosses more papers onto the desk, but this time, it’s a stack of paperwork. Jongin picks it up, and Sehun looks over his shoulder. “The insurance policy I had taken out on my jewels alone was...how should I put it? What would capture the enormity? Let’s say it was _astronomical_.” 

“And you—” 

“And I kept taking out policies on everyone else’s,” Minseok says. “Because, let’s be honest, I’m rich. And as long as I pay, they’ll do whatever I want them to do.” 

“If you’re rich, then why did you need the money?” Sehun asks. “Why do this at all?” 

“Rich people get richer,” Minseok shrugs. “That’s the nature of the rich.” 

Sehun turns to Jongin, and they clasp their hands together, in fear. In love. 

“Mostly, though,” Minseok says, leaning forward onto his elbows, his fists under his chin, “I just wanted to see if you could do it. And look at you. You did. State of the art security system. One hundred million possible combinations, infrared heat detectors, a seismic sensor, a fucking _Doppler radar_. None of it was a match for you.” 

Sehun looks to Jongin whose eyes have slipped shut peacefully. He looks like someone ready to slip beneath the water, ready for it to be over. Will they make it out of here with their lives? What if...what if they’re turned over? That was always a possibility, and Jongin never let him forget that it was a possibility. But—they got so close. Sehun could practically taste it. 

The seconds stretch on forever, and Sehun just watches Jongin, thinks _if I have to spend the rest of my life in a cell or...or if I’m about to be killed, he’s the last thing I want to see._

Time. The clocks. They stop. Time stops, and it sits there between the three of them. Sehun chokes on it. Strangles himself on the tie around his neck before Minseok finally speaks. 

“Go,” Minseok says casually. “After all, you did the job, and you did it well. So get out of my fucking sight. And if you ever even _think_ about stealing from me again, I’ll make sure you lose your fucking hands before I fuckin’ blow your brains out myself. That goes for you, _and_ for the rest of your little gang.”

Jongin’s eyes shoot open, and he squeezes Sehun’s hand in his. But they stand there in silence. 

“Well?” Minseok asks boredly. “Go. Or I’ll feed you to my fucking tiger.” 

If it’s a trick, Sehun doesn’t care, the relief in his heart is bright like the summer sun, and as they leave the office, no one follows. No one tails them. No one chases after them, demanding the money or the jewelry. They just walk out. They walk right the fuck out, and they hold hands as they run to the car. 

“What the fuck,” Jongin laughs. “What the fuck, what the _fuck_.” 

They slam the doors shut behind them. 

He shoves the car into drive, and the speed is thrumming through them both. The adrenaline is thick like diamond dust in their veins. And as they drive, the sun setting behind them, they laugh. The radio is off, but it sounds like a song.  
  


◇

  
  
They don’t stop driving until they hit Busan, and even then, they drive until the sun has set, the darkness draped over the city. They get a room at a V1, Jongin pays with exact change, taking the crumpled up won from his pocket.

And the contrast is stark. The room is basic. Gaudy in its decoration. Sehun loves it, wants to scream with how much he loves it. 

“This is so ugly,” Sehun laughs. 

“It is really fucking ugly,” Jongin agrees. He sits on the bed, puts the briefcase across his lap. “You know what’s not ugly?” 

“Money,” Sehun says. “Money and you.” 

“And _you_ ,” Jongin says. 

He unlocks the briefcase, stands, and holds it above the mattress before it tilts it over. Millions and millions fall to the bed, a storm of yellow that seems to move in slow motion. There’s more where it came from, and it is more money than they could ever spend in a fucking lifetime. And it covers the bed, covers the floor. 

Jongin throws the briefcase to the floor, storms over, and takes Sehun in a kiss that feels raw, feels like exposed skin. He would follow Jongin to the ends of the earth, he thinks, wherever Jongin wanted to go, and Jongin would do the same for him, he fucking _knows it_. 

“We did it,” Jongin says, his thumbs framing Sehun’s jaw and shaking him. “We fucking did it. No one thought we could. But we did.” 

“We did it,” Sehun says, and his eyes brim with tears as Jongin takes him in another kiss, his body warm and strong against Sehun’s. 

Their bodies fall to the bed, and the money moves around them, moves as they do. Sehun pulls at Jongin’s clothes just as Jongin pulls at his, and they strip each other clean on the motel mattress, covered by only one thing: possibility. 

Sehun runs his hands down Jongin’s sides, runs quick, clever fingers along the underside of Jongin’s cock and has him moaning into Sehun’s mouth easily. 

“Make love to me,” Jongin says. “Please.” 

“Yes,” Sehun sighs. “Yes.” 

The heat drips over them, the sounds of paper folding like cranes all around them. They have luck on their side. Luck and _love_. Sehun moves inside him. Jongin moves over top of him. They come together. They move together. 

They move together. They have moved together for the better part of two years now. And they continue to move, move against each other, filled with each other, desperate for the other. More, more, more. 

They can never be poor, not if they’re together.

The money is wet beneath them, and Jongin dabs at Sehun’s forehead with a charming, torturously beautiful smile. 

Sehun licks the sweat away from Jongin’s neck. He loves the taste, for he tastes of champagne and stars.

**Author's Note:**

> i started this yesterday morning and hustled like hell to finish because i knew that if it languished in my google docs i would never forgive myself. 
> 
> heavily inspired (beat for beat inspired) by the REAL LIFE antwerp diamond heist, also referred to as "the heist of the century". i mean, go big or go home, am i right, lads? 
> 
> big thanks to sarah and marie for looking this over for me before i posted, u guys are the best. 
> 
> if you liked this, leave me a comment and let me know. its like, you know how ppl say "my compliments to the chef"? i am the chef. please like my food. 
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wolfsupremacist) and you can ask me questions and send me prompts on my [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/wolfsupremacist)! i sincerely hope u enjoyed! ok! love you! bye bye!


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